


And I'll Give You Another Thousand of Kisses

by mizunohikaru



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Affection, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, I just changed the rating, M/M, Mutual Pining, Or whatever the spelling of their pairing, Public Display of Affection, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, VictUuri, another character will added later, btw what's Makkachin's gender, domestic AU, is this a new kink, lots of kisses, some are NSFWish, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizunohikaru/pseuds/mizunohikaru
Summary: It was started from 23rd of May, Japan's Kiss Day.I need to contribute something, so here's drabble compilations of their kisses.And yeah, in other words: I just need an excuse to write tooth-rotting fluff about Victor and Yuuri kissing each other.Note: Every chapter contains 5-10 drabbles and you can suggest a prompt via comment,If I write a drabble based on a suggested prompt, the suggestor will be credited & mentioned on the 'gift' section :)





	1. 1 - 10

**Author's Note:**

> In attempt to do another collaboration with [Kuso-Taisa](https://www.facebook.com/kuso.taisa/).  
> Supposedly I'll write the drabbles and she will draw the scenes based on my drabbles :D  
> Check out her [Instagram account](https://www.instagram.com/kusotaisa/), her artworks are amazing! <3 <3 <3
> 
> P.S. The drabbles were un-betaed. Please forgive any of my grammar mistakes XDXD

* * *

 

**01**

The morning kisses are their sweet ritual.

Some of the days, it was Victor who woke up earlier than his spouse. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” The Russian nuzzled onto the latter’s neck, fingers combed the raven locks. His sing-song tone was full with amusement, as he never tired of the magnificent scenery of half-sleep Yuuri with tousled hair, heavy-lidded eyes and sometimes with traces of crimson lovemarks from their latest activity blossomed on the younger's skin.

The Japanese male was perfectly beautiful, and Victor showered his lover's face with kisses and light pecks: from the forehead to the temples, down to both cheeks, the tip of the nose, stolen kisses on the luscious lips, before gnawing on the seductive jaw.

“Wake up,” Victor whispered in his low, baritone tone—those warm hazel orbs was slowly opened and with a soft yawn, Yuuri chuckled and greeted him using his morning husky voice, “Morning, Vitya...”

 

 

**02**

Some of other days, it was Yuuri who woke up earlier than his coach. Limbs tangled in lax manner, the older skater’s arms often circle onto the Japanese’s shoulder. Victor always looks serene in his sleep, those heart shaped lips slightly parted and those pale chest heaved up and down slowly as he breathes.

“Wake up, Vitya,” Yuuri cupped the latter’s cheeks, fingertips circled the lines of Victor’s jawline. Small pecks on the Russian’s eyelids, and those silver lashes fluttered open: revealed the cerulean blue underneath.

“I love you waking me up,” Victor mused, “Kiss me more.”

And Yuuri obliged.

 

 

**03**

Yuuri usually doesn’t wear his glasses during competition.

The world was a big mess of blur and blobs of colours whenever Yuuri doesn’t wear his glasses, and he never had an understanding relationship with contact lenses. He wasn’t as blind as a bat, but his vision was indeed quite poor. Being far-sighted, he could only see the nearest objects clearly. It never stopped him to spot Victor in his vision though; as the raven haired would notice the glimmer of silver right away, steps stumbled as he approached the latter and welcomed into an embrace.

“My precious,” Victor kissed Yuuri’s fingers—a little too seductive. Their golden rings shone under the light, and Victor pressed another kiss to Yuuri’s golden band, “Go and win that golden medal, for us.”

He clasped their fingers together for a brief moment, and Yuuri replied Victor’s smile with a smirk. “I will.”

 

 

**04**

The question was sudden and unpredictable.

“Which kiss is the most memorable one?” The reporter practically shoved the microphone to the Yuuri’s face. The Japanese blushed, trails of pink dusted his face and the tips of his ears. He was never get used with these kind of personal questions, and Yuuri stammered as he flushed; collecting his words into a jumbled sentence.

“The one on China Cup,” He finally managed to answer, and the reporter nodded immediately in agreement. After all it was their first shared kiss; publicly seen by all the audience and videotaped into history by the medias. It happened in a few seconds that felt like an eternity: Victor tackled him into an embrace, fingers cradled the back of his head as those soft lips pressed against his own and Yuuri barely registered what the hell just happened.

And after all… it was the first kiss; the beginning of lots, lots of kisses later.

 

 

**05**

They sat together on the love seat, side by side.

The popcorn bowl had been emptied during the first thirty minutes and left untouched on the coffee table. The movie turned out to be boring, with too many unmeaningful scenes. The main actor recited his dialogue in a flat tone, then Yuuri finally gave in and yawned.

Victor shifted and threw himself onto the Japanese’s lap, “Let’s do something else.”

Yuuri chuckled in agreement, fingers combed the silver locks. His eyes were soft and warm; glistened in warm reddish brown hue of hazel, filled with affection as he leaned down and kissed the whorl of Victor’s hair.

“Yuuri…!” The Russian whined, and Yuuri gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s still thick and lush, don’t worry Vitya.”

 

 

**06**

“Give me a sip of that,” Victor demanded and Yuuri let his fiancé drank his coffee, the paper cup was filled with steaming hot latte. Victor held Yuuri’s fingers along with the cup, “It’s sweet, just like you…” and Yuuri flushed in the possible deepest hue of crimson ever.

Witnessing the whole thing, the ice tiger of Russia’s first reaction was a disgusted frown, followed with a gag. “Stop flirting and drink your own coffee…!”

Victor ignored the younger skater, “You’re only jealous because I just shared an indirect kiss with Yuuri, Yura.”

“Eew…!”

 

 

**07**

Victor have a particular favourite of Yuuri’s wardrobe: a loose wide-necked white shirt that had been so well-used the fabric had thinned out due repeated wash cycle. It got Yuuri’s Detroit University logo on the front, the bright colours had been faded into a much more diluted, demure shade.

Yuuri wore that shirt quite often, as his casual lounging shirt at home. He often paired the article with his khaki coloured baggy pants, and Victor always thought the Japanese man looks really sexy with the combination. It showed Yuuri’s beautiful neck and collarbone, and the sight of Yuuri’s nape from the backside made Victor obsessed.

Whenever Yuuri wears that shirt, the Russian will sneak quietly and steal kisses on the latter’s nape and neck. The first time it happened, Yuuri was washing dishes on the kitchen. He yelped as Victor sneaked a hug and kissed his nape. The Russian laughed and buried his face on the crook of Yuuri’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent.

“Vitya…!” Yuuri’s pout was a mere façade.

The latest stolen nape kisses was on the bathroom, in front of the sink. Bleary eyed Yuuri was brushing his teeth, minty scent from the paste filled the air. Victor stepped into the bathroom with a big yawn and circled Yuuri’s stomach using one of his arm, pressed their bodies together and pecked on the irresistible nape.

Noticing his lover from the mirror, Yuuri gave in and sighed a soft moan as Victor repeatedly nibbled on his skin. “I love it when you wear this shirt,” Victor mumbled his confession as he sucked on the ivory skin.

“…I know,” Yuuri gasped another moan, “That’s why I keep wearing it.”

 

 

**08**

Despite he keep saying that he was a dime of a dozen skater, Yuuri in fact is one of Japanese top ace. And what he doesn’t realize is that he really have fans; actual fans that watching him skate religiously and spending money on his merchandises.

There were a crowd on the arrival gate when Yuuri stepped out from the door along with Victor, finally came home to Japan for the NHK championship. There were a lot of girls that holding his poster ( _and is that a body pillow?)_ screaming his name as the Yuuri blushed and awkwardly waved for them.

“Marry me, Katsuki-san…!” One particular high-pitched scream was followed with a chorus of the same request. Even Victor, whom usually magnificently handles his own rabid fangirls, were stunned with the situation.

“Sorry guys,” The Russian skater made a hush gesture using his finger pressed on his lips, “But Yuuri is mine.”

Right after he finished the sentence, Victor pulled the unsuspecting Yuuri—fingers cupped the latter’s cheeks possessively and proceeded to kiss him on the lips, hard.

The fangirls, in response, screamed even harder.

 

 

**09**

It happened at Yutopia once when Yuuri still act awkwardly around his self proclaimed coach: Victor offered to help in the kitchen.

They were on the family kitchen instead of the formal one that belonged to the inn; Yuuri was busy preparing for lunch and Victor entered the room excitedly, eyes gleamed with the heart shaped smile plastered on his face.

“Let me help…!” He exclaimed, using the tone like he was announcing something important. Yuuri just shrugged and having no idea of Victor’s kitchen skill, decided to trust the older male. After all, the Russian should have some cooking experience after living for 27 years, right?

And boy, how wrong he was.

 _Disaster_ were a lenient word to describe the whole ordeal, and Yuuri made a mental note to never, ever, handed the silver haired male any knife in the future. The sharp object was a perfect slasher weapon on Victor’s hand, resulting lots and lots of casualties. Most of them are the magically disappeared supposedly-peeled-vegetables, butchered bits of something that used to be perfect salmon chops, and several cuts on the Russian’s fingers.

Yuuri gasped on the sight of blood and in an automated reflex, put Victor’s finger on his mouth, sucked the wounds which left a tangy aftertaste of blood on his palate.

Victor’s eyes went wide and in a dreamed sigh he commented, “This felt… intimate.”

Yuuri realized his action and yelped in panic. “Ah, sorry! I… I… just… kissed your wounds,” The Japanese male rambled, “…kissing your pain away, something… like that?”

There was a few seconds of silence before Victor’s lips curved into a smirk. “I still have more cuts to be kissed, Yuuri…” as he showed the series of cuts on his fingers.

 

**10**

It was a winter's banguet and there was mistletoe.

Yuuri was totally unaware about the wreath, blissfuly sipped his chilled apple cider which served in a flute shaped tall glass. He stood there near the refreshment table quietly, when Victor approached him, “Ne, Yuuri...”

“Hmm...?” Yuuri titled his head, “What is it, Vitya?”

Instead of anwering, the Russian male pointed the wreath that hanged on the pillar using a long red satin ribbon. Yuuri's eyes followed the directions and the information finally clicked, just like one plus one equals two.

“You were standing under the mistletoe,” Victor touched Yuuri's jawline, fingertips trailed on the latte's cheeks—and Yuuri held his breath. From across the room, Phichit practically dashed in an amazingly fast sprint; his phone's camera pointed to the couple. “KISS! KISS! KISS!” The Thailand skater started the chant and Christophe joined the festive: the Swiss man cheered loudly, circled his fist on the air. Leo and Guang Hong pulled out their own phone and followed Phichit's chant. “KISS! KISS!”

The whole Russian team participated on the chant; or at least Georgi and Mila—the auburn haired whistled as she clapped her hands. On the other hand, Yuri Plisetsky made an utterly pissed expression, “...my poor eyes...!!”

It was several minutes later when Phichit uploaded the video to his Instagram account, he made his famous gasped expression as the couple kissed so passionately on the background, eyes closed with rosy, blushed cheeks. The notifications were literally exploded, and Phichit wondered if he could broke the internet (or at least the Instagram, just like Ellen used to broke Twitter with her Oscar post)

 

**phichit+chu**

♥️ **10.9k likes**

 **phichit+chu** #Viktuuri is real and I'm the captain of the ship! #mistletoe #kiss #Viktuuri4lyfe

View all 332 comments

5 MINUTES AGO

 

 


	2. 11 - 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More kisses.  
> And lots of kinda NSFW M-rated borderline kisses ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bridge for #11 is real. Cek wikipedia and [this post](http://yoimeta.tumblr.com/post/154841595219/anniech-as-a-proud-citizen-of-saint-petersburg) for more info.  
> The drabble #15 is the continuation for #14. I remembered that there was an official artwork about them in somekind of tropical Asian resort on [February Pash's poster.](http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/yurionice/images/f/fd/Pash%21_febuary_poster.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20170114021620)
> 
> To see the artwork of some scenes of the kisses drabble please visit [Kuso Taisa's IG.](https://www.instagram.com/kusotaisa/%22>Kuso%20Taisa</a>)  
> She made the nape kisses from the #7 drabble [here.](https://www.instagram.com/p/BUjngbeAnCc/)
> 
> P.S. The drabbles are still un-betaed. Pardon my grammar.

* * *

 

**11**

Victor loves surprises.

He does enjoy good surprises and he loves to give people a spectacular surprises in return. Yuuri accepted the quirks as a blessing, though sometimes he kinda hoping that Victor will at least giving him hints so the Japanese skater won't be so clueless.

It was the morning after he finally came to St. Petersburg to stay with Victor—still jet lagged from the long flight and barely have enough sleep since the couple spent almost the whole night doing everything but sleeping.

The air was crisp with a trace of winter, and Yuuri tightened his scarf around his neck as his breath turned into a faint white mist when he exhaled. Victor took him to a bridge; a grand cathedral looked magnificent on the background. The bridge itself wasn't a really big one, crossed a streaming river with roughly 40 metres in length. The handrail was pretty, with geometric shapes, but Yuuri knew it wasn't why Victor took him there. It wasn't an ordinary sight-seeing. It was still quite early in the morning, yet several other people were there with them—all couples, hand in hand.

“Vitya...?” Yuuri gave the latter a puzzled look, and replied with a meaningful smirk. Tip-toeing, Victor pulled him to the middle of the bridge. They stood there, basking under the morning sun and Yuuri marveled on the golden halo biased on Victor's silver hair.

“This,” Victor gestured, “Is Поцелуев мост --Potseluev Bridge.”

It didn't ring any bell on Yuuri's mind, but there must be a super important meaning; since Victor gave him _that_ particular look, the one he always get whenever he have his secret suprises. The other couples on the bridge gave them a nodding nod and several other made a thumbs up gestures, waved before--

“Oh?” Yuuri noticed something: those couples were kissing and they didn't make it a brief one. They shared a really long, passionate kiss—one of the particular couple even dressed in bridal attire: the bride's veil swayed gently from the breeze as the groom whole-heartedly kissed his soulmate.

“It's other name...” Victor leaned closer, the cerulean blue eyes sparkled, “...is the bridge of kisses.”

Yuuri held his breath as Victor caressed his cheeks, “They said if you kiss someone on this bridge at parting, they will surely return to you one day. Kiss your lover...” The tone was inviting, “...and you two will always be happy together. They also promised a long, happy married life. And...”

Yuuri gazed on the latter's orbs, spine tingling as he leaned forward instinctively, “...and?”

“The longer the kiss on the bridge, the longer you will be happy,” Victor murmured something in Russian, sweet and longing, then proceed to kiss the younger male. Yuuri melt to the kiss; a gentle yet fiery and irresistible one.

It was moments later, that felt like an eternity, when they finally parted—nose still touched, breath rasped and heartbeats loud against their ribcage. “This is troubling,” Yuuri mentioned, and Victor chuckled, “Why?”

“I didn't want this kiss to end...”

“ _Yuuri,”_ and the Russian pulled the Japanese skater into another kiss, “So do I.”

 

 

**12**

It was after their first meal together at Victor's apartment: the dinner was splendid and the meal was absolutely delicious. Yuuri collected their dishes from the table and went to the sink, placing them along with the frying pan, spatula, knife and chopping board that used while they were making dinner.

Victor had the newest dishwasher installed, but since there were so few of dishes to be washed, Yuuri felt like it was a waste of water and electricity to use the machine. _I'll just hand-wash the dishes_ , he decided.

Right before he grabbed the sponge, Victor joined him. “May I help?” The Russian offered, “Since you did most of the cooking, I can do the dishes instead. Just help me to dry these with the napkin.”

The arrangement was fine to Yuuri, so both of them stood there by the sink; Victor washed their dishes and Yuuri dried the wet utensils using the soft checkered patten dish cloth and piled them on the cupboard. They chatted as they worked, the song played by the radio filled the background with sappy love song.

“There,” Yuuri put the last plate on the cupboard. He was sated and content—and the love song set him in a rather romantic mood. So the Japanese tip-toed and kissed Victor's cheeks, “Thanks for helping me with the dishes, Vitya...”

Victor was wide-eyed and a dust of pink trailed on his pale skin. “No problem,” he replied, the heart shaped grin plastered wide on his face.

It was weeks later when Yuuri noticed that they never, ever, using the dishwasher again. Victor always insisted to hand-washed the dishes together, and sometimes he does the job by himself—then asked to be rewarded by a kiss.

 

 

**13**

Yuuri winced as he opened his skates and felt another blisters had formed on his feet. It was all hardworks and pain and sweat that hidden behind the graceful movements on the ice—and a skater's feet paid the most sacrifice: covered in wounds and bruises most of of the time.

“That looks hurt,” Victor commented as he approached Yuuri on the locker room's bench, a first aid kit box on hand. The Russian insisted to help his lover tended the wounds, so with a flushed face Yuuri let Victor took his feet; the latter cleaned the wounds and applied ointment along with some bandaids.

'Thanks,” Yuuri murmured, “I know my feet looked really horrible at the moment...”

Victor noticed what Yuuri just said, but didn't say anything. In return, he applied the last bandaid. “Done,” Victor announced, yet he still held Yuuri's left foot—the one he just tended since he did the right one first. Yuuri want to pulled his leg away, but Victor held his foot in a steady grip that made Yuuri wondered why his coach haven't let go yet.

“Vi--”

His sentence halted and the question was never asked since Yuuri gasped and whatever he wanted to say stuck on his throat. In a very intimate gesture, Victor leaned closer and locked his eyes with Yuuri; his tongue lapped his own lower lip in a quick sexy motion. Yuuri's eyes went wide as those lips parted more, formed a seductive smirk, then proceed to kiss the Japanese's toes.

 _Stop, that's dirty_ , Yuuri wanted to say, but his knees felt so weak and his brain felt kinda numb. He let a small moan escaped as Victor teasingly pecked on his ankle while caressing his calf on the same time.

“ _Yuuri_ ” The baritone was dangerously husky and sinful as Victor teasingly gnawed on the latter's big toe, “Never say that you feet look awful. They were...” The pause was killing Yuuri as his heartbeat went frenzy, “...really beautiful.”

 

 

**14**

“Vitya, do we get the wrong room?”

They were visiting Phichit and Victor had booked them the accomodation. The hotel room was spacious and comfy...but there's only one big bed with canopy, decorated with strings of fairy lights sparkled on sheer drapes. Petals of roses scattered on the white linen sheet, and Yuuri swore that there were two swans made from fluffy pillow perched on the edge of the bed.

The candles on top the cabinet table filled the room with sweet floral scent, and much to his dismay: the glass that separated the bedroom and the bathroom was totally transparent.

Victor hugged him from behind; the Russian's cologne was rich with musk and spices. His fingers sneaked under Yuuri's cotton shirt, made circles on the Japanese's stomach before trailed up to the latter's chest. Victor's lips touched his ear, and Yuuri moaned when his lover pecked on his sensitive spots before bit his earlobe playfully.

“No,” The tone was low and husky and _needy—_ right on Yuuri's ear, “I do order the honeymoon suite.”

 

 

**15**

There was a hot tub function on their room's bathup: circular jet pump decorated the sides of the big, circular porcelain tub which raised in a platform. Victor had filled it with warm milky water that promised to soothes the muscles, the pumps created small swirled patterns. The bath salt's aroma was light, yet intoxicating, and Yuuri felt light-headed.

The tub was big enough for the two of them, yet Victor cradled his fiance on his lap; limbs tangled in delicious friction. Yuuri's hair was wet and slicked back—several loose locks fell to his forehead. He shivered as Victor sucked his lower lip and nibbled on it, wet tongue lapped onto his—the latter's fingers caress his back, trailed from Yuuri's shoulder blade to his twin globes and kneaded it teasingly.

“ _Vitya,_ ” Yuuri called his coach's name wantonly, and Victor tugged him closer for another longing kiss. “ _Yuuri_ ,” He replied between their kisses, each syllables was filled with adoration.

Yuuri cupped the latter's cheeks, moaned as he felt the hardness beneath him. “Vitya...” His voice was husky and hoarse, “Make me yours...”

In response, Victor smirked and positioned himself to his lover's entrance. Yuuri gasped, hand pressed briskly on the steamed glass wall, created a wet palm pattern on the misted surface. Kissed the Japanese's chest, he slowly joined their bodies together. “But you're already mine, darling...”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. If you have a theme for a kiss you wanna see, please leave a comment and maybe I could write about it~! :D Just the prompt is okay, like 'kissing in the rain' or 'make up kiss after a fight' etc <3 <3 <3


	3. 16 - 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another 5 drabbles, another kisses.  
> Some of them are NSFWish ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the previous chapter, sorry! I got so many works to do in the office XDXD
> 
> Drabbles #20 is the continuation of #19.  
> You may see the chocker I mentioned on the drabbles #16 [here.](https://www.facebook.com/kuso.taisa/photos/a.257077510971009.73013.218396824839078/1547345231944224/?type=3&theater)  
> Yes it's real and yes she sold it before at Singapore's YOICon event.  
> I drooled after I saw those and heck yeah i need to included them to my drabbles /bricked 
> 
> And it's still un-betaed as usual so pardon my grammar /teehee

* * *

 

**16**

It was the photographer's idea to swap their chokers.

Once in a while, endorsement offers came and they were asked to do the ads together. The choker photoshoot was one of those requests, and it was done in an indoor studio; they were dressed in black and asked to pose against jet black backdrop. Their shirts got stylish ragged and jagged cuts, the calculated patterned torns look effortless coincidental and artsy. Since the producer want to emphasized on the small piece of jewelry, the advertisement concept was simple: close up portrait, black and white, colour selection on their eyes and hair only.

The choker itself got their surname names engraved on the beads, joined by the metal snaps on thin velvet ribbon, circled snugly on their neck. Victor's choker was engraved in Russian alphabets while Yuuri's surname was engraved in English. The real product though, allowed the wearer to choose the engraved name. Their first concept was to wear their own name on the choker, until the photographer suddenly suggested the idea.

“Why don't we swap the choker? It will get a greater impact!”

Yuuri wanted to ask what kind of _impact_ the photographer meant, but Victor clapped his hands in excitement, “Oh, that's a really nice idea!” so they did it anyway. A moment later, he was wearing the choker with Victor's name on it, while Victor wearing his name. The staffs gave them gasps and some of them even cooed, that the idea was _the best (perfect!) suggestion ever._

“Katsuki-san, please give me _the look_ ,” The plea from behind the viewfinder was as abstract as _the impact_ , but Yuuri had done enough share of commercials before. Afterall taking photos or even doing a video advertisement was nothing new to him since he had been doing these side jobs occasionally before.

His raven hair was slicked back, and the make up artist had make sure to emphasized the accent on his eyes. So Yuuri took a deep breath and posed in front of the camera, body language relaxed and languid—his expression was as seductive as ever, oozed the 'eros' he mastered under Victor's tutelage.

Victor whistled, “Perfect, Yuuri...”

The Russian, of course, had been in commercials more often than his fiance—so he did his own pose spectacularly during his turn, varied his poses in every shutter click. Victor gave a teasing look to the camera, and Yuuri held his breath. The photoshoot was wrapped safely, and they were given the choker they were wearing ; none of them took the choker off yet during their way home.

“You were looking at me,” Victor leaned on Yuuri, their side bodies pressed together on the couch. Makkachin sprawled near their feet, and raised his head as if he also waiting for Yuuri's response.

Taken aback, Yuuri looked confused, “Well, I'm looking at you...?”

“No, darling,” Victor chuckled, “I mean during the photoshoot. You were giving me one particular look during my turn to be photographed.”

“Um,” Yuuri hesitated a moment before he fixed his gaze on the choker that Victor wore, “I was thinking that you really did well during your poses--”

“...and?”

“You looked so dashing and one moment I'm like _wow, that man is my fiance_ ,” Yuuri blushed and lowered his gaze, “You know Vitya...” He slowly touched the choker, “I love seeing my name around your neck.”

Victor smile went wider, and he leaned down: embraced the Japanese male as he kissed the top of his lover's head. The smell of shampoo tickled his nose, and Victor marveled on how the same brand they were using smelled so much better on Yuuri.

“Yuuri, darling...” Victor touched Yuuri's choker in return, then pressed his own lips on the latter's collarbone; leaving kisses there before sucked the tender spot on Yuuri's crook, “To be honest, I also love seeing my name around your neck. You know, we need to thank that photographer. Her idea was briliant.”

 

 

**17**

The morning was sunny and warm when they took Makkachin to the park.

Everything looked radiant and refreshingly green, with flowers bloomed everywhere as the peak of spring was finally came. The brown poodle was wearing a new collar; the old one frayed and the claps weren't work properly anymore. The pooch seemed to like the new, shiny royal blue collar: the leather was soft and stretchy with fleece lining inside.

Makkachin could followed them, trotted behind without any rope—but it was a public park which got several busy roads route nearby. For safety reasons, all dogs were asked to wear a harness, so Makkachin wore one. The durable nylon rope was dusty blue, the small carabiner lock connected to the claps on the collar.

Then, the poodle saw the squirrel. And went hyper.

He chased the critter, high-spirited and totally excited. Victor tried to called his poodle but his voice were drown on the buzzing noise and Makkachin ignored him. He ran in looped circles, followed the poor squirrel, and before long Victor and Yuuri were bound to each other: limbs and torso tied in strange manner, the harness's rope wrapped them tight.

“Makkachin...!” Yuuri yelped, and the brown poodle finally listened. He halted, but the motion pulled his owner forward and soon they tumbled, tried hard to regain their balance. Victor tripped over a twig that lied on the ground, and BAM! They crashed down.

“Ouch,” The Japanese male winced, as his Russian coach wriggled himself to untangle their bodies. His body was sore, and the whole scene looked rather comical. “At least we're not falling to a pond,” he murmured to himself.

“What pond?” Victor asked, forgetting to scold Makkachin. Yuuri made gestures using his hands, “The Disney 101 Dalmatians scene, when Roger and Anita met. Pongo tangled them together using the harness, both of them fell to the pond—they fell in love in the process, then they got married after that. Phichit made me watched the movie with him, don't ask.”

“Well,” Victor made a rather sly smirk, “I rather not fall to a pond, but...” He pulled Yuuri in, and kissed him on the lips passionately, “I have no trouble to fall in love with you. And really... I couldn't wait to get married to you, Yuuri.”

 

 

**18**

He wake up with tears on his eyes.

_It's only a nightmare_ , he assured himself. His heart still beating anxiously, drummed against his ribcages. It was several hours past midnight and the clock on the wall killed the silence with its endless tick-tock, too loud to his taste. Slowly he sighed, covered his face using both of his palm; his body temperature felt feverish and there's a beads of cold sweat on his temples.

“Yuuri...?”

Beside him, Victor shifted. The silver haired male yawned as he rubbed his eyes. Propped himself using his elbow, Victor crawled closer to the Japanese male, his other hand rubbed Yuuri's back in soothing circles.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Yuuri replied, his tone was rasp, “It's just a nightmare.”

The raven haired moved closer to his lover, pressed himself to Victor in a relief sigh, “It was dark... and I was alone. I'm looking for you but I couldn't find you anywhere. People keep telling me that they didn't know you, as you were never exist...”

“Sshhhh,” Victor tried to calmed the latter, embraced the latter tight to his chest. The Russian cooed and showered his lover's face with light kisses, erased the tears trail on Yuuri's cheeks, then kissed the closed eyelids that hidden the hazel orbs beneath. “I'm here, with you.”

Yuuri exhaled and inhaled long breaths, then his body finally relaxed—arms circled around Victor, “I'll hate a world without you. Stay close to me.”

“I am,” Victor replied in a gentle voice, “Always. Forever.”

 

 

**19**

_Katsuki Yuuri is a beautiful, tentalizing enigma._

While the Japanese skater was usually shy and reserved, once in a while his switch flipped and the world was presented with a seductive eros whom oozes sinful sensualities. This version of Katsuki Yuuri was amazingly erotic: a beast between the sheet.

“Vitya—!” Victor let out a low growl as his lover convulsed beneath of him. The Japanese's back arched like a bow, while one of his legs craddled Victor's hips. Yuuri's hair was messy and his breath was ragged—yet those warm rich hazel intensely locked with Victor's, demanding for more. Those luscious red lips parted, elicited sweet gasped moans.

The Russian leaned in and kissed his lover fully on the mouth, savoured the delicious taste of his Yuuri. The Japanese's fingers dig on Victor's shoulder, “...more Vit..ya...!”

The raven haired exhaled a sharp breath and started to rock his own body to match Victor's rhythm. The older male complied the demand and increased their pace; their movements were raw and ruthless. Yuuri's chest heaved as Victor pulled his torso closer, pressed their bodies together. Yuri was cradled inside the older male's embrace, practically sat on his lap. They fit like the correct pieces of puzzle and Victor always marvel on how perfect it was—like they were destined as one, with red strings of fate surely tied their fingers together.

“Yuuri...” Victor thrusted upwards, and Yuuri jerked in pleasure, let out an inaudible scream as his head thrown down—the Japanese pressed his temple to Victor's shoulder, hot breaths tickled the Russian's skin.

“Feels... great—“ Yuuri murmured in rambles, “It feels great, Vitya...”

The last syllables of his name was pronounced in long, seductive tone. Yuuri was doing one of his usual unconsciously unintended gesture; he got this particular habit of licking his own lower lips during the height of his pleasure. Victor instinctively knew that Yuuri was close to coming, so he grabbed the latter's waist and rocked their bodies harder.

His Yuuri, in his irresistible eros mode, rolled and swayed his hips to match Victor's thrusts. Those hazel orbs gleamed under the light, dazed yet clear with the Russian's image reflected on its dark surface. Yuuri's pupils were dilated, wide and dark like an endless pool, drawn and engulfed his beloved fiancé.

Their peak came in white; both of them groaned as Yuuri slowly relaxed inside Victor's arm, body lax and sated, basked in the afterglow of their activities. Victor kissed the top of Yuuri's head. Their bodies still tangled together when the two of them finally lied back on the bed, breath ragged and skin moist with sweats and other bodily fluids.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered his confession and Victor was drown in love, “I love you too, my Yuuri...”

 

 

**20**

It was nearly dawn when Victor wake up. Yuuri was still asleep, curled in fetal position beside him. He clutched the blanket, hair tousled messily on the pillow. His lover looked so delicate and vulnerable, eventhough he just wring Victor dry until the Russian was totally spent.

“Your stamina is really something else, Yuuri...” Victor mused, traced his fingers on the latter's ivory skin. There were crimson spots bloomed on Yuuri's neck and torso, and Victor knew those red love bites also covered his own pale skin, scattered like tiny camellias.

Victor watched the younger male sleep: chest heaved slowly as he breathes. The Russian tucked several strayed strands of hair that fell on Yuuri's eyes, gentle smile formed and plastered on his lips.

“You,” Victor leaned down and kissed the latter's shoulder blade, “are my whole world, my sunshine, my life...” He paused a second, “...my everything.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, you may suggest any ideas/prompt for the kisses,  
> If I write one based on your suggestion, I'll credit you too here, no worries~!  
> Currently I'm collecting the ideas some of you have given me via the comments~~


	4. 21 - 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More kisses. And somehow each drabble becomes longer and longer, dammit myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles #21-22 took place in Japan.  
> I used [Kuso-Taisa's artwork](https://www.facebook.com/kuso.taisa/>Kuso-Taisa</a>'s%20<a%20href=) for the drabble #24. She didn't base the pic from Tom Ford ads in mind, but since I love the ads series I included the brand on the story. Pls don't sue me LOLZ

* * *

 

**21**

Summer in Japan was unbelievably hot.

The air felt humid with strong glare of the scorching sun, with loud _miii miii miii_ sound from the cicada's cry filling the day endlessly. It almost felt surreal, like he was transported to another dimension. Used to the colder climate of his mother Russian, Victor laid under the shade as his disheveled yukata stick onto his skin. Fanned himself using a round paper fan with goldfish motive, Victor hummed along the wind chimes as another drop of sweat rolled down from his neck to his upper torso. His alabaster tone was slightly red now, even after Yuuri applied a ton of sunblock to his coach's skin.

“You will get sunburn,” The raven haired said as he lathered a big dollop of white, cooling aloe-vera infused lotion to Victor's back earlier. It kinda reminded Victor to his childhood on the beach; his mother used to do the same thing. Hasetsu was also located near the sea, but the wind tasted different—yet nostalgic.

He was dozing off on the veranda; the wooden texture felt slightly cool as the bamboo curtain blocked most of the heat. A breeze came and the paper ornament of wind chimes danced as the round beads repeatedly clinked against the half spherical transparent glass which decorated with small sunflower patterns on its rim.

It was so peaceful. The cry of the cicadas lulled him into sleep, and Victor slowly put his paper fan on the tatami next to him— “Are you asleep?” Yuuri's voice brought him back, and Victor smiled sheepishly, “Nah, I just doze off.”

“I brought us some shaved ice,” Yuuri presented two bowls of triangular shaped of shaved ice, topped with different syrup: one was pink while the other was blue. “We ran out of lemon flavour, so I got the strawberry and the blue hawaiian one for us.”

They sat on the wooden veranda, watching the koi fishes swam around inside the small pond on the yard. A big cumulonimbus covered the sky, finally provided some shade. The _miii miii miii_ sound of the cicadas went louder, then after a while Yuuri chuckled.

“Your tongue is red,” The Japanese skater laughed, “I bet mine is blue...” He showed his own tongue to Victor; and it was indeed blue—for a while Victor even thought that is it safe to have such a vibrant dye colour on food. “You're really like the colour blue, eh Yuuri—“ Victor combined their fingers together, “Yet I wonder...”

He cupped Yuuri's face gently and pecked the latter's lips teasingly. Yuuri complied, and opened his mouth. Victor deepened the kiss and devoured the sweet tasting lips hungrily, sneaked his own tongue inside and rolled it against his lover's. His fingers combed Yuuri's locks; their lips parted for a second for a breathe, then Yuuri leaned forward and joined their lips once again. Victor pulled Yuuri's waist and do another french kisses, the Japanese melted inside his embrace and moaned something inaudible.

They gasped and finally parted with a ragged breath; Yuuri's hair was a mess. His pupils were blown so wide that those hazel orbs looked almost black. Using his fingertips, Victor slowly traced Yuuri's lips. Pressed his own thumb to Yuuri's swollen lower lip, Victor seductively whispered as he peeked in the gap between those luscious lips: “I wonder if it will turn purple...”

 

 

**22**

The sun was still there, shinning so brightly as ever, when the gentle drizzle started to fell. It was warm and kinda humid, with the familiar earthy scent of wet soil mixed with the more musky smell of the raindrops met the hot asphalt.

It was the type of rain that light enough so you could walk through the rain and only felt the soft, misty droplets touched your skin—occasionally accompanied with a bigger, wetter drop that left circular wet spot on your clothes.

“Ah, it's Kitsune no Yomeiri—the fox's wedding,” Yuuri mused as he opened his palm, trying to feel more of the droplets other than the slightly damp tiny drizzle, “A rather light one too, this didn't feel like a rain at all...”

Victor wasn't familiar with the term and Yuuri recognized the confused look on his fiance's face, so he explained more. “A sun shower,” The Japanese male described, “Is the meteorological phenomenon in which rain falls while the sun is still shining. Here in Japan, we believe that sun shower occurs when the _kitsune_ —the fox deity hold their wedding ritual.”

“I see,” Victor was fascinated with the myth, “That sounds like somewhat romantic. I never experience a light drizzle like this before. The rain that I'm more familiar with the wet, splashy one. The one drenched you to the bone.”

As it was on cue and Victor's statement was the magic word, the rain went harder all of the sudden. The two of them were forced to run to find the nearest shelter, which not available since the park they visited were the open field type with minimal building. They ended up took refugee under the shade of a huge tree which provide a decent canopy from it's thick foliage.

“Oh well,” Yuuri was rather amused on their situation, “At least this is better than—ACHOOOO!”

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri's shoulder and puller the younger male closer. “Sorry, I didn't bring my jacket this time,” He apologized, “But still, let me keep you warm somehow...”

Their shirts were wet and stick on their bodies; Victor's white tees was rather transparent and his muscle is were printed in full display. Yuuri chuckled from the sight, let Victor tighten his hold on his body and leaned closer. He rested his head on Victor's shoulder for a while, hugged the Russian male—Victor's body heat felt warm and comforting.

“Yuuri?”

“Hmmm?”

Those cerulean eyes were clouded in sheer adoration when Yuuri saw his own image reflected on those orbs. Victor cupped his cheeks, the palm felt feverish, and Yuuri closed his eyes; letting his lover savoured the passionate kiss in content sigh.

“To be honest,” Victor whispered, “I'm grateful for this rain. Now I can cross _Kissing Yuuri under the rain_ from my kiss wishlist.”

“Wait, what wishlist...?!”

 

 

**23**

“Yuuri, what do you think about us doing some lipsticks advertisement?”

Victor blurted the question like he was asking _what should we eat tonight?_ And Yuuri raised his eyebrows in confusion. He was practicing his spins on the ice when Victor, whom leaned to the ridge of the rink, murmured the question so casually while holding his phone using one hand. The Japanese skater slowly scoot over to his coach and tilted his head, “Lipstick? But we were men...”

“Exactly,” Victor showed his fiancee the email he got from their agents, “Tom Ford want to do another series of [Lips & Boys ads](http://img06.taobaocdn.com/bao/uploaded/i4/i4/127779527/TB2tqrGqXXXXXcCXpXXXXXXXXXX_!!127779527.jpg). Their latest models were James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender.”

“From the X-Men first class movie?”

“Yep, the actors of Magneto and Professor X.”

Yuuri pursed his lips a bit, “Are we okay, in term of being famous— I mean, they were international actors...” He seemed hesitated, “And we're athletes. We didn't show up in advertisements that much to be super famous or what.”

Victor chuckled, “Well...” The cerulean blue eyes twinkled as he pulled his lover closer and hugged Yuuri on his waist, “The director saw our choker ads and demanded—specially demanded, in fact—that we need to be in the new series. His direct quotes: “Their chemistry is magnificent and Katsuki's lips is especially really kissable.”

A trail of crimson spread on Yuuri's cheeks and ears. Victor's hug tightened as he brought Yuuri's body closer, their faces were only inches apart. “I don't like the way he commented on your lips, but he's right though...” Victor landed a deep, teasing kiss that left his lover breathless. The Russian carefully nip on Yuuri's lower lip, do some teasing little bites before suck it gently; kneaded the luscious lips using his own. Yuuri moaned, and with the same determination, circled his arms on Victor's neck—replied the playful kiss with an intense make out.

Then, the song which Yuuri put for his FS finally over, leaving the two of them with silent echoes of their make out noises, mixed with gasps and short breaths. When they finally ended the kiss, Yuuri swept his tongue across his lips and smirked as he combed Victor's hair gently. The so called living legend enjoyed those fingers brushed his fallen locks away from his forehead, “You, my darling Yuuri... really have a kissable lips.”

 

 

**24**

The outfits were two sets of white tuxedo.

The staffs helped them with the dress shirt and the ties: Victor was wearing a more complicated cravat style while Yuuri's bowtie was much simpler to styled. Their tuxedos though, were made from different fabric and hues of white. The stylist explained something about pearly white, broken white, eggshell white and mauve-ish dye or some sort but both of the figure skater didn't have so much vocabulary of colour to really grasped the explanation.

“So, in summary,” Yuuri tried to end the sudden WHITE 101 CRASH COURSE™, 'Mine is the pearl one, and what Victor wore the one with the mauve hue.”

“Yes, you got it right Katsuki-san...!” The stylist brimmed in excitement, clapped her hands, “It's kinda a bit too much to stain these garments with the lipstick though. The formula is long-lasting one and these fabrics themselves were not easy to clean from the beginning either.”

“Wait,” Yuuri raised one of his eyebrows, “I beg your pardon, but... stain the fabrics with lipstick...?”

The stylist nodded in reply, “Oh, the team haven't give you the brief for the shoot? The art director want to decorated some parts of the fabric with lips mark. You know—smudged and messy lipstick on your lips and faces, marks on the hem of your shirt, semi ruffled hair as you two just passionately making out and caught in the moment while holding the lipsticks in display...?”

Yuuri felt his cheeks heated in response.

His suspicion went true when the photographer indeed asked him and Victor to kiss each other. “To get those _I just kissed!_ Lips,” The Italian man waved his hand in such gesture reminded Yuuri to his former coach, whom hands were the extended expression of his words, “Remember to smudge more of the lipsticks on your lips. Yes, yes, I know it's smear-proof but we need some messy look. Thank's heaven we didn't market it as kiss-proof! And yes, please do kiss your partner's neck and shirt, especially on the collar area. We need those lip marks.”

“You hear what he said,” Victor smiled as he pulled Yuuri to lean on him. They were holding their respective lipstick: the tone of the crimson rouge were slightly different. The make up artist had created the smudged effect on their lips, but apparently the photographer thought the look wasn't natural enough.

While Victor indeed kissed him in public for their first kiss, being watched while they were sharing the intimate moment still felt uncomfortable to the Japanese skater. He tried his best to ignore the staffs and focused on Victor instead: there was a ring of halo on those silver locks, illuminated by the soft boxes on the background—those cerulean irises looked so blue and dazzling.

Victor pecked on his neck and leave the lips stains on his collar, following the photographer's order even though he did it with a full blown seduction that engulfed Yuuri in waves of desire. The raven haired followed his fiance's action; a heat sparked and spread inside of him as their breaths slowly mixed together. The heat ghosted a warm sensation on Yuuri's skin, and he closed his eyes, tipped his toes and took the first nip on Victor's lips.

 _Vitya_ , he mouthed, and Victor's breath hitched as the older male replied the action with a deeper kiss. Their lips met and locked in haste, Yuuri dominated the kiss with a wanton demand to be satisfied. The shutter noises were faint somewhere on the background, repeatedly non-stop in staccato rhythm. _More,_ Yuuri moaned softly. Victor chuckled and cupped Yuuri's cheeks using his free hand, teasingly bit Yuuri's lower lip, kneaded the latter's lips in agonizing slow pace.

“Look at the camera, guys!” The photographer interrupted, and both of the skater took a side glance; the rouge were red on their lips, slightly smudged just like it supposed to. “Can you pretend like you guys were putting the lipstick to each other—AH YES! Hold that pose...”

CLICK.

[The result](http://kuso-taisa.tumblr.com/post/158708213455) was an absolutely perfection, and caused a major uproar when the billboard filled the city with their newest ads.

 _Hei Yuuri, congrats!_ , Phichit texted his former roommate, _I just seen that damn whale on twitter after years. Not breaking the internet yet, my comrade... but twitter is a good start!_

 

**25**

Victor used to hate his forehead.

He does realize that people are using his wide forehead as inside joke, saying it was wide enough to land a plane, that his forehead is so bright it practically shines like a bulb, or he had a bad, progressive receding hairline from early age. _Not funny._ Especially when he did freak out when he notice his hairline was indeed receding, eventhough it wasn't much. He used to cover his forehead with bangs when he was younger and rocked his long, silvery mane; but as he of course older with more mature image, his hairstyle showed more of his forehead when he parted his section in a side bangs.

Yuuri however, seemed to appreciated his wide forehead.

His lover often gives him pecks on his forehead, even during their mundane daily life. Yuuri need to tip-toed and pulled Victor down to bend his posture a bit though, since the Russian was taller than him. And it's cute, super cute, since Yuuri's determination to kiss his forehead requires extra effort. (except when they were cuddling)

“Won't it be easier to kiss me on the cheek instead...?” Victor asked the Japanese skater one particular day, and Yuuri shook his head, “But I love your forehead. And forehead kiss is the kiss with the deepest implications of love and trust, after all.”

Victor remembered the phrases, and his heart shaped smile went wider. People said that a kiss on the forehead is unidirectional, it does not anticipate a reply nor does it need one. It is a promise to love, care, and protect someone—since a kiss on the cheek sometimes associated with a more platonic gesture, kiss on the lips and neck were easily associated with desire, but a kiss in the forehead is devoid of any obligations and lead ups.

 _I love my forehead_ , Victor decided as Yuuri swept his bangs aside to plant another kiss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, you may suggest any ideas/prompt for the kisses,  
> If I write one based on your suggestion, I'll credit you too here, no worries~!  
> Currently I'm collecting the ideas some of you have given me via the comments~~

**Author's Note:**

> See you in next kisses~!
> 
> P.S. Kuso-Taisa's artwork for drabble #7 (the nape kisses) [here~!](https://twitter.com/shirou_yuki/status/867075573847252992)


End file.
